Eve Unknown
by Ellie Lildat
Summary: You think Buffy had an unbelievable secret life? Check out Dawn's.


Author: Ellie Lildat lildat08@excite.com  
Disclaimer: Nu-uh. No profit and no ownerships here.  
Summary: If you though Buffy had an interesting double-life, check out Dawn's.  
AN: I don't know what's wrong with me.  
  
  
Title:** Eve Unknown**  
  
  
They don't know me. They never did and never will, and that's the way I'll keep it.   
  
They all think I'm innocent and sweet... if they even notice me at all. Nobody noticed me before... though I truly didn't exist before at all. I'm nothing to them, just a familiar face in the crowd, the baby they keep having to save. But I'm more than that.   
  
One night last year, when Mom was asleep and Buffy was over at Riley, I snuck out like I usually do. I had to wait three hours after my bedtime for Mom to be asleep and then I started getting ready. Mom and always been oblivious to Buffy, and she was the same way with me... except she died before I could get caught. Lucky me.   
  
It was around midnight by the time I was ready to leave, my hair was all swept up and my leather pants were tight against my thighs. Buffy didn't even know I owned them, she still doesn't know.  
  
I double checked that Mom was asleep and then I climbed out my window like I did every night. Buffy's window was always better for climbing out of, but there' always a chance that she'll notice something when she comes home in the morning. It doesn't matter though, it's not like I'm going to get hurt climbing down the side of the house and onto the deck. It's so easy.  
  
It was humid that night, causing my tiny tank to cling perfectly to my form underneath my demin jacket. I had been wishing that I didn't have to bring the jacket, but my wallet, stake, and holy water were in it so I had to. Besides, in the jacket I looked like Faith, the better of the two slayers, she told me herself the last time I saw her.   
  
I didn't run into any demons or vampires on the way to the park, I rarely do and it's never a big deal when it happens. Buffy makes such a big deal about being able to slay vampires, but I've slayed about fifty since I was thirteen and five demons too. It's not a problem if you're not afraid of them, and I haven't been afraid of monsters in a long time. Just stake and move on, no need to fight them like Buffy always does.  
  
At the park, Nat was already there, sitting against his car with Mike and Rachel laying against the windshield, dull expressions in all their eyes. Nat was pissed though, I guess I made them wait a little too long for his liking. Doesn't matter though, as long as I get paid for this.  
  
Get your ass in the car, Eve. Nat growls at me.   
  
None of us go by our real names, and I doubt that Rachel is twenty three like she says. It's just the way we do things, better than letting anyone know the truth about us. We don't live in the same towns and we don't do the same things, this is strictly a deal, as Nat says.   
  
I don't even blink from Nat's obvious unhappiness, it's not my job to please him. I just continue my pace towards the front passenger seat of his old and batter brown car that's too beat up to even tell what kind it is. Nat'll be even more furious that I took Mike's seat in the car, but I don't care. And he knows that he can't scare me.  
  
As soon as I shut the door, Rachel wriggles out of Mike's slimy embrace and climbs in directly behind me without uttering a word. We don't talk much. I hate Rachel and she hates me, neither of us care enough to do anything about it.   
  
We sat for a few minutes, letting our usual hostile air take over as I watched Nat from the corner of my eye. He was muttering to himself as he smoked his cigarette to the filter, his face was coke-can red with anger by the time he was snubbing out the last bit of flame on the fag.   
  
Nat walks like a gorilla, no balance and all stomp, as he storms over to the car, grabbing Mike by the collar and shoving him through the backseat window on top of Rachel. That's when I saw Mike's arm, it looked practically deformed from the bruises and broken veins, it's never looked that beat-up before. Rachel sees it too, but she doesn't care one bit, Mike's not her boyfriend. So she just balls up her fist and hit's Mike directly in the gut, making him groan and roll to the floor. I looked back at Rachel to see her reaction to the drool on her shoes... but she was just glaring at me. I had to smile back at that.  
  
The drive took at least two hours, and I was almost wishing for a book to read for the ride. Nat spent most the the time on his cell-phone, making sure that the business was running smoothly while he wasted his time picking up me, the bitch from Sunnydale.  
  
Through the side-view mirror, I could watch Rachel, staring up at the stars from her own cracked window. She looked so young doing that, younger than me from from the way she glanced dreamily up at the navy-blue sky above the desert road. It's a completely different way than she looks most nights, world-worn and trashy with her over-done make-up clogging every pore on her face and chest.   
  
About half an hour into the ride, Mike woke up, sat down on his side of the back seat and passed out again. He can't be any older than twenty-five and he's already got a white streak in his black, black hair. He didn't always have it, I remember it only appeared a few weeks after I met him, not long before he decided that coca-cola and coke were the only things you needed in life to survive. Mike didn't last long in the group... or in life for that matter.  
  
When Nat finally stopped the car, I was the first person out, not waiting for anyone to say anything before I slammed the door behind me. I just straightened my clothes and walked directly towards the disgustingly familiar building in front of me. Rachel wasn't far behind, and I could still hear Nat muttering something from near by. It didn't surprise me that Mike was still in the car, passed out for millionth time that month.   
  
I just walked directly into the back door and didn't even hesitate about heading to the bar. I got a shot of whiskey, swallowed it before it could leave too much of a bitter burn in my mouth, and disappeared through the gray door as I do every night.  
  
It was back there that I saw the rest of the girls, skinny and bruised from the repulsive patrons of the club, preparing to go face the monsters outside again. But only I knew that they wouldn't be going back out again.   
  
Glancing around the room, I quickly spotted Rachel, dressed in nothing but her preforming clothes, and made eye contact for a moment before she took off towards the make-up mirrors. That was when I moved quickly, not drawing attention to myself as I walked over to the bag Rachel had left in her seat and pulled the gun out of it, hiding it in the back of my pants. I hated Rachel.  
  
Girly, what're ya doin'?! I remember his voice, the grizzled and drunk bane of all those girls' existences. I turned, staring the old fat slob directly in the eye, not caring that he loomed a good seven inches above me. Why aren't you dress newby? He slurred to me, placing his greasy hand the bare part of my chest that showed about the low-cut line of my tanktop. I knew it didn't matter that he was drunk, he would had done it anyway.  
  
That was when I did it, I reached behind my back, aimed the gun and shot him- point blank in the head. His eyes didn't even close as he feel to the ground with a heavy thud, causing every girl in the dressing room to stop what they were doing at stare. Nobody even noticed I was the one that shot him, staring coldly down at the dead owner as everyone else did.   
  
And that was it. I just wiped the guns down, placed it back in Rachel's bag, grabbed Mike from the table he was drooling on, and hailed a cab from outside the club as soon as possible. It didn't matter that Nat might treat me better the next night or that Rachel might get caught for shooting the slob. I just left because I felt like it.  
  
Once the cab dropped me and Mike off in Sunnydale, I carefully laid him down outside the police department, not really caring what would happen to him later on and left.   
  
It was almost six when I got back home and climbed back into my bed with my hair down like I always wore it at home. I just huddled under my purple covers for half an hour until I heard the alarm go off in Mom's room and decided to take a shower. And by the time I walked out of the bathroom, dressed in my fluffy terry-cloth robe I was ready. Ready to face the world of fake and monsters, all while pretending to be an innocent child.  
  
Because no matter which life I live, nobody wants to know who I am besides a name.


End file.
